recall | by Samya Abu-Orf

The white boy says my name wrong

and I do not correct him

Tells me, yeah my hair is fine now

but he wishes it was long like in the pictures

Tells me I am scary, but he kinda likes that

White Boy ignores my text messages

but responds to thirst traps

Deletes our instagram messages and

does not mention me to his girlfriend

The white boy says my name wrong

and I do not correct him

Complains about school, work, friends

Expands to explain test questions, managerial confrontations,

his relationship with his parents

White Boy asks for advice about his lovers but

does not ask reciprocal questions

Knows nothing about the hours spent without him

and does not mind

The white boy says my name wrong

and I do not correct him

Tells me he likes Arab girls

and I do not put my fist in his throat

Tells me he’d “like to watch” when I say I sleep with women

and I do not close my legs to him

White Boy laughs at my rage

and I do not extract his teeth from his skull while he sleeps

The white boy says my name wrong

and I do not correct him

White Boy does not realize he is the devastation

I seek shelter from,

a hurricane with size 11 footsteps

His seemingly serene body, a storm’s eye

swallowing up all that might feed him

ignorant of the wreckage of bodies left in his wake

a monsoon without satiation,

and still expecting a raindance

The white boy says my name wrong

and I am suddenly glad he cannot fit me in his mouth

I remember I am a daughter of holy land

I am the olive tree and the soil it was planted in

I am the lightning and the lightning rod,

the river and the hands that bathe in it

I remember the slingshot in my mouth

I tell White Boy he is a coward,

a blight on this luminous, kaleidoscope earth

I tell White Boy to colonize this

I tell White Boy to go fuck himself

And White Boy does not murder me

but many of my sisters were not so lucky

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